Hope for a Lycanthrope
by paien
Summary: Remus struggles with the burden of his condition and its impact on his life. Can he accept himself for who he is?


**A/N:** _This is my entry for round 3 of the QLFC. Hope you enjoy :)_

 _Team: Tutshill Tornados_

 _Position: Beater 1_

 _Round 3 prompt: Write about a Truth that is hatred OR write about someone being Dared to confess their hatred._

 _Word count: 2669_

* * *

A kiss goodnight. Drifting. Peace. Shock. _Pain_. Cries. Yells. Fighting. Pain…

Remus was five years old when he was bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Thankfully, he couldn't recall many details from that night, and he was too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the attack. He did, however, know that his mother's tears and his father's rage were related to his new _condition_.

They sought Healer after Healer and tried treatment after treatment. In the end, nothing seemed to work. The final diagnosis was always the same:

"It's incurable. There is nothing I can do."

"Not even to relieve any of the pain?" his mother would ask every time.

"I'm sorry—I wish I could help."

Remus hated his lycanthropy for causing his parents such distress.

So he set out to be the best, most well-behaved son they could have hoped for. When other children threw tantrums in Diagon Alley, Remus would cling meekly to his mother's side. When other children would return, worn out and muddy, from the playground, Remus would delicately sidestep each mudpit and come home to be enveloped in his mother's warm hug—and pull away to reveal her still pristine clothing.

However, because of these peculiarities and his reluctance to engage in 'normal' games with the other children, Remus often found himself as the shy onlooker during playtime.

This caused a new worry amongst his parents. Weren't young boys supposed to be energetic and eager to play? Remus, however, was soft spoken—not entirely unusual, but his tendency to skirt around any type of physical play ruled him out of many playground games. He already acquired enough bruises and aches during his full moon transformation. Watching children fall onto gravel pits during a chaotic game of tag, why would Remus want to add more scrapes to his already tender knees?

The Wolfsbane Potion was invented the year before Remus was due to attend Hogwarts. One of his previous Healers had informed his parents of its creation, and they had immediately signed him up on the waitlist to receive one free trial sample. The difference in the transformation after taking the Wolfsbane was incredible—he'd never had a better night's rest in his life.

But the potion was expensive, the ingredients rare, and potioneers with the skill required to brew it were almost unheard of. After the initial exultation from the discovery, emotions deflated rapidly when they were unable to acquire more doses of the potion.

So when Headmaster Dumbledore informed them of the special arrangements that would be made to allow Remus to attend Hogwarts, his parents were overjoyed.

On the Hogwarts Express, Remus sat in solemn silence as the other three boisterous boys in the compartment crowed over their Chocolate Frogs. They eyed him contemplatively but otherwise left him alone. He was grateful for their acceptance of his quiet, bedraggled presence.

* * *

As bedtime approached on his first night at Hogwarts, Remus eagerly sat down cross-legged on his bed to write to his parents. He'd been sorted into Gryffindor, and all the students had been welcoming enough. Some had even offered him a few friendly claps on the back. So what if he may have exaggerated the extent of the friendships he'd forged? He hated the worry that he caused his parents. Besides, the Gryffindors' easygoing natures had facilitated Remus's awkward attempts at joining the camaraderie, although he still clung to the perimeter of the crowd. With a little time, he was sure he could find some quieter boys to befriend. The louder ones might be too curious, too eager to ask questions about Remus' inevitable monthly disappearances.

Satisfied, Remus signed his name and glanced at the mantle clock in the dorm room. Hadn't the Prefect said curfew was at 10? He must have heard wrong, though—his dorm mates had yet to return. He'd just run quickly to the Owlery to send his letter.

The corridors to the Owlery were awfully dark, though, and Remus eyed the whispering paintings shiftily. Something seemed off.

Suddenly, a hand clasped over his mouth. He squeaked in surprise, jerking when his elbow hit the hard stone wall as he was pulled into a pitch black alcove.

"Oi, pipe down," a hushed voice whispered in his ear. "Filch is gonna hear you."

"F-mmhuh?" Remus mumbled against the hand.

"He's the caretaker, didn't you know? …Shh! I think he's coming."

Remus stopped struggling when he finally recognized the voice—it was the same bespectacled, messy haired boy that he'd shared a train compartment with, and who he'd now be sharing a dorm with.

"Okay, I think he's gone," James announced quietly after a few minutes of poised silence. "Sirius, Peter—come out, quick. Let's go!"

There was only enough time for a confused "Huh?" to escape Remus' lips before James dragged him alongside another black-haired boy and a mousy brown-haired boy, their footsteps echoing in the darkness as they ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories.

"That was pretty great, wasn't it?" James crowed once they reached the sanctuary of their dorm. "I can't believe Filch didn't catch us!"

Remus sunk gratefully onto his bed and tucked his unsent letter away. "Why? Were you doing something wrong?" he asked innocently.

The two dark haired boys glanced at each other and chortled.

"I like you," Sirius laughed. "After all, what's the worst they could do if you're out after curfew?"

Remus tried not to blanch. Out after curfew? That wasn't what he'd meant to do at all! "Er, yeah, it couldn't be that bad, right? I _am_ pretty tired, though—I'll, uh, see you guys at breakfast?"

James nodded. "Yeah, my dad told me breakfast at Hogwarts is amazing—we don't wanna miss that."

* * *

It wasn't quite how Remus had envisioned making his first friends at Hogwarts but, somehow, their friendship had only strengthened as they faced tedious teachers, hastily scrawled homework assignments, brutal exams, and hours upon hours of evading Filch and other patrolling staff members.

But as the moon waxed and waned, so too did Remus's anxiety. How many more excuses could he come up with? How many more would his friends _believe_? He hated that he had to lie to them every month—hated that his condition meant he would miss precious time with the best friends he'd ever had. James had already begun eyeing him suspiciously when he'd had to visit his 'sick' mother. What was he going to do when they finally found out? Surely he couldn't keep his lycanthropy a secret forever—his friends were already intrigued by the rumors of the Shrieking Shack. What if they stumbled upon him there on a full moon?

And yet, Remus's first year at Hogwarts passed without incident. Disembarking the train, he cheerfully waved goodbye to his friends and bounded to his waiting parents, who smiled in relief at his obvious delight.

Peter scurried over and waved shyly at Remus' parents. He shoved a torn off piece of parchment into Remus's hand. "James and Sirius are coming over next week—you should come too," he said eagerly before disappearing into the crowd to find his parents.

Remus glanced down at the address written on the paper and grinned.

* * *

The next week arrived in stark contrast to Remus' initial summer jubilation. The full moon had sucked all his energy, and he lay resting in a sickly pallor, cocooned in thick blankets on his bed.

"Sweetie, I know you want to visit your friends, but it's too soon after the transformation," his mother pleaded with him as he struggled stubbornly to sit up against the headboard.

"I told them I'd be there," Remus insisted, fighting with the blanket wrapped tightly around him.

"Remmy, you're already tiring yourself out," his father pointed out with a tight-lipped expression. "Go back to sleep."

Remus shook his head. No! He wouldn't miss seeing his friends! He just needed to—ignore the pain—and find his shoes and coat. Gods, his knees ached terribly, though. But he'd walk if he had to. Peter didn't live that far, did he? Just a few hours away at most, surely. Right. He could walk…

Remus awoke the next morning to the sound of his dad leaving for work. He jolted upright and immediately regretted the motion when his back throbbed painfully. He'd fallen asleep! His friends must have been so worried. Merlin, he'd be overjoyed if he didn't see a full moon for the rest of his life. His whole body ached _and_ he'd missed playing with his friends. If only he were normal!

As he scanned the room in a disheartened daze, a messily enclosed letter on his normally tidy nightstand caught his eye. He frowned when he recognized Sirius's untidy writing and reached over to open the envelope.

 _Remus,_

 _Your mum told us you were sick, but don't worry—James is having a sleepover next weekend! You always come up with the best things for Truth or Dare, so you better be there!_

 _Feel better soon,_

 _Sirius, James & Peter_

 _P.S. If you don't show up this time, we'll eat all the chocolate without you!_

Remus grinned to himself, forgetting about any lingering pain. This time he'd be there for sure.

* * *

Thankfully, Remus's monthly transformation did not interfere with any of his visits for the rest of the summer. He whistled cheerily as he examined the list of school supplies required for his second year at Hogwarts. He'd have to remember to pick up some chocolate to distract his friends from picking on too many firsties. James could never resist a Chocolate Frog.

Tucking the list into his trouser pocket, he trod downstairs to find his dad sorting through the mail at the rustic kitchen table.

"Look, I've got the list of supplies for next year!" Remus announced, tugging on his father's arm. "When can we go to Diagon Alley?"

His father lowered the newspaper he'd been reading and glanced at Remus's exuberant face. "Well," he began slowly, "since you won't be able to board the Hogwarts Express this year, I thought we might go then."

Remus froze. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"The full moon…"

But Remus refused to listen anymore. He bolted back up the stairs, almost pulling his weathered bedroom door off its hinges. _Why_ couldn't he be normal? He was fed up with his lycanthropy ruling his life! If he could just pretend it didn't exist, pretend that he was like James or Sirius or Peter, or pretend that he lived in another universe where werewolves were treated as people and he wouldn't have to hide anymore—wouldn't have to lie to his friends.

This was the prejudiced world he lived in though, and he _knew_ he couldn't ever reveal his secret to anyone, especially not his three best friends—they'd never want to see him again! Remus set his jaw resolutely as he penned a new letter with a new excuse for his predicted absence at the Welcoming Feast.

* * *

Remus stumbled tiredly up to his dorm after arriving through the Headmaster's Floo. He'd already missed the first two days of classes and he refused to miss any more, even though his joints creaked and his skin was mottled with bruises. Most of the bruises would be covered by his clothes at least, so he wasn't too worried. He'd just need to muster up the appropriate amount of enthusiasm after his 'Cousin Amelia's wedding.' Thankfully, it was late enough now that he should be able to enjoy a full night's rest in the comfort of his dorm before he would need to pretend that nothing was amiss.

Glancing suspiciously at the unmoving lump in Sirius's bed—the rambunctious boy was normally such a restless sleeper—Remus changed into his pyjamas and climbed into the sanctuary of his four-poster bed. He blinked in alarm when the clothes he'd set on the floor next to his bed suddenly flew through the air and landed on the other side of the room.

James's head popped up over the side of the bed, and Remus automatically smacked him with a pillow.

"Merlin, you scared the pants off me!" Remus exclaimed, whacking James one more time for good measure.

James grinned and stood up. Or, his head moved up—the rest of his body was nowhere to be found. Remus gawked, his tired brain unable to form words to express its concern.

"Well, you deserve it, mate, for making us sit through the Welcoming Feast without you! There were so many firsties that had to be sorted—I thought it was gonna take forever!" Sirius complained, his head also popping up right next to James.

Remus blinked as Peter's head materialized as well. "What _happened_ to you guys?! Oh, god, should I get Dumbledore?" He reached to his nightstand and fumbled for his wand.

James snorted. "Relax, there's nothing wrong. Check this out—"

Remus raised an eyebrow when nothing seemed to change, then fell back in surprise as his friends' bodies suddenly appeared, an odd shimmering fabric still wrapped around their shoulders. "What was _that_?"

"It's an Invisibility Cloak!" James revealed with delight. "I nicked it from the attic."

"Oh, cool!" Remus reached out to touch the cloak hanging off James' shoulder.

"Yeah, think of all the pranks we could do with this!" Sirius clasped his hands together gleefully while Peter nodded along with him. "Filch'll never catch us now."

James stared at Remus seriously. "Yeah, pretty good for sneaking out at night, don't you think?"

Remus' eyes widened. What was James playing at? Did they know? "I guess so, yeah," he agreed as casually as he could.

"We could make it to the Shrieking Shack, easy," James continued nonchalantly. "Especially if the full moon's out, y'know? We wouldn't even need to use _Lumos_."

"Oh, move along, James," Sirius interrupted. "Listen, Remus, we like you, yeah? We're friends. We don't give a toss if you're a werewolf," he plowed on even as James mimed for him to stop talking. "Friends stick together, no matter what."

James dramatically smacked himself on the forehead, but Remus felt a small smile tugging at his lips as his shoulders straightened and his chin lifted. He appreciated Sirius' candor, even if it wasn't the most sensitive approach. Could his friends really accept him for his condition?

"So whenever you go to the Shrieking Shack, we'll come along with you, capiche? And no one will be able to see us, so we'll be fine." Sirius nodded to himself, evidently pleased with his plan.

"Er, I appreciate the thought," Remus began awkwardly, still somewhat baffled by the night's events. He'd never talked about his lycanthropy much with anyone. "But werewolves are dangerous, you know?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Even I'm not _that_ thick, Remus."

"So, uh, werewolves can smell, yeah?"

"...Oh. Right."

Remus couldn't help but laugh at Sirius' downcast expression, and James clapped him on the back supportingly.

"Don't worry, Sirius, we'll just have to work on Plan B," James encouraged.

"Plan B?" Remus asked suspiciously. Was this the part that they stopped being friends? He knew it must've been too good to be true.

James puffed his chest out proudly. "We're gonna become Animagi!"

"Wha—" Become Animagi? Didn't that take _years_? Did they plan on sticking around for that long?

"Yeah, we've got loads of books to read about it," Peter piped up. "I think we can do it!"

"So, you guys are… okay with this?" Remus asked quietly. "You don't care that I'm a—werewolf?"

"Of course not!" James said vehemently. "You're a person, just like us. _And_ you always have Chocolate Frogs!"

Was this what it felt like to be normal, to not have to worry about secrecy or prejudice? He smiled softly. He still hated the aches, the bruises, and the pain. He hated the burden his condition had placed on his parents, and he hated the loneliness during the days leading up to and after the transformation.

But now he was more than Remus the werewolf. He was Remus Lupin—a son, a friend, a student, a werewolf.

And because of this, he hated his werewolf a little less.


End file.
